


Growth

by LaLionne (otayuriistheliteralbest)



Series: Voltron Bingo Works [9]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M, Mentions of PTSD, SHEITH - Freeform, Voltron Bingo 2018, green thumb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-14
Updated: 2018-11-14
Packaged: 2019-08-23 11:36:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16618241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/otayuriistheliteralbest/pseuds/LaLionne
Summary: Shiro had a green thumb. It was a fact that Keith hadn’t realized for the longest time, through all their years at the Garrison together, and then their time in space defending the universe, and then Earth, from Zarkon and the other Galra enemies. There just hadn’t been the time or possibility to...grow anything.But they were home, and safe, the worlds rebuilding all over the universe, and he and Shiro had settled into Keith’s childhood home in the desert.





	Growth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zjofierose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zjofierose/gifts).



> This is for my Voltron Bingo Sheith card's "Growth" square, which gives me a bingo! :D Enjoy - this is a lil angsty but mostly happy. Inspired by zjofierose's suggestions. Thank you!

Shiro had a green thumb. It was a fact that Keith hadn’t realized for the longest time, through all their years at the Garrison together, and then their time in space defending the universe, and then Earth, from Zarkon and the other Galra enemies. There just hadn’t been the time or possibility to...grow anything.

But they were home, and safe, the worlds rebuilding all over the universe, and he and Shiro had settled into Keith’s childhood home in the desert. It was quiet there, peaceful and calm. They could hear someone coming from more than a mile away, and their friends knew to let them know they were coming. They spent their days racing around on their hoverbikes, cuddling under the stars on their roof, cooking together and dancing to the music on the radio, wooden spoons over-utilized as impromptu microphones.

There were some bad times, nights where one of them would wake up soaked in sweat, a scream of fear in their throat. It took time to remember where they were, that they were safe in each others’ arms. The hurt eased over time, the nightmares came less and less often, and that was when the garden started.

First, it was just a couple of plants around the house, succulents in hanging glass jars and on the kitchen table. Keith joked that they would become overrun by the little plants in their sleep. Shiro cracked a smile and, in lieu of responding, asked if Keith wanted to help him plot out a garden.

He started with vegetables: cabbages, tomato plants, carrots. Shiro had done his research, learning everything he needed to not kill the plants in his first attempt. Not all were successful; the tomato plants struggled, withered, died, and he tried again. It shifted something in Shiro’s mind; to create and cultivate, rather than fight and destroy. Keith could see how it helped Shiro to get over his trauma, to care for his garden, and would seek out rare plants and vegetables for Shiro to add to his garden. They added to their day, spending hours weeding and laughing, picking ripe vegetables and throwing clods of reddish-brown dirt at each other.

Keith became creative in the kitchen, pulling out his family’s old recipe books that had survived the years and neglect when his father passed away. He found recipes in unknown handwriting; maybe it had been his grandmother, or great-grandmother, who had penned them. He traced the script with a gentle hand, a connection he knew was there but could never know the answers to. So instead he learned to cook, to bake, to perfect these recipes forgotten ancestors had left behind.

They weren’t there yet, they still had a ways to go before they could move past the pain of the war, but they had their little garden and each other, and friends and found family to support them. And wasn’t that enough?

Keith stirred the stew in the pot with a slotted wooden spoon and looked out the window at Shiro, a wide-brimmed straw hat protecting him from the hot sun beating down on him as he toiled in the garden. Keith smiled and set the spoon aside, covering the pot once more.

_It was enough._


End file.
